Jespyr was raised in a lonely home in a quiet village outside of Númenost. His father, a blacksmith, like his father before him, demanded perfection of his son. Jespyr, therefore, got very good at the practice of bending metal. He learned to meet the needs of the locals - whether that be forging lanterns, horseshoes, or cutlery, he became indispensable to the village. Eventually the war demanded his family's services, and he begun to produce swords and armor for the army. His work always met the needs of the military. A perfectionist, though, he was dissatisfied with the inability to innovate in his work.
Growing up in a small village, Jespyr is no stranger to physical labor and has contributed to many village projects - building, mining, even farm work. His father encouraged him to take on as much for others as possible - for this was virtuous, and meant that the family would receive blessings in return. Therefore, he has a surface-level understanding of many required skills for homesteading.
Jespyr has always had a certain fascination with magic, and a natural attunement to it. Behind closed doors, it was discussed that this must be the reason for his mismatched eyes. Some villagers believed that the green eye symbolized an ambition that they couldn't understand.
He dreams of building his own home, complete with a forge, nearby a major city. This way, he believes, he can have the space and quiet to focus entirely on his craft without interruption and distraction, while being close enough to easily sell his wares. He dreams of developing new techniques for forging weapons, armor, and crafts, perhaps involving the magic he's always been so fascinated by. He dreams of creating legendary works of metal that are valued throughout the realm.
He's just moved out of the village and is seeking a home, for now, where he can begin to further develop his craft.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
((How does your character respond? Please ensure your response is at least six sentences long, and uses at least two actions.))
Jespyr tilts his head and stares at the hag for a moment before saying, "You know who I am?" Intrigued, and without waiting for her response, he sits down, eagerly anticipating an explanation.
He doesn't get one.
He sighs, frustrated at the lack of a response... but something tells him that he should answer the question anyway.
"...I'm from a small village outside of Númenost. You likely haven't heard of it. But I was the blacksmith there my whole life." He pauses, memories flashing across his mind.
"I made weapons and armor for the army. Basic craft, exactly as they asked. I wasn't satisfied with basic. I want to master the forge. To be able to create purpose-built equipment, perhaps even imbued with magic. I want to be known for my craft."
Images of his mother cross his mind while a flash of pain crosses his face. He hopes the old lady doesn't notice.
"I hope to make the war end just a little faster. Perhaps it would save a few unnecessary deaths," he finishes.
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